Livin' On a Prayer
by HardRockPrincess
Summary: For Leslie Winchester, the life of a hunter has turned her in a pessimist, an introvert, and an overall bitter person. But when her dad goes missing, Leslie and her brothers, Sam and Dean, are thrown in a crazy adventure none of them had anticipated. What doesn't kill you may make you stronger, but someone forgot to mention that it almost kills you. DISCONTINUED


**I know I've already attempted a sisfic, but the first one was a disaster. This is me revising all the problems from the first chapter. Leslie is played by Missy Peregrym in my mind, but she can be anyone in yours. This story follows canon mostly through Seasons 1-5, it starts to take a different direction around Season 6, Season 7 and 8 have many AU plots with more OC characters, and it goes** _ **completely**_ **AU mid-Season 9 and will be wrapped by Season 11. Enjoy!**

 **Chapter 1:** Awkward Family Reunion

" _We're halfway there,_

 _Whoa-oh, we're livin' on a prayer"_

 _-Bon Jovi_

" _This is John Winchester. I can't be reached. If it's an emergency, call my son Dean. 785-555-0179. He can help."_

At the sound of the tone, Leslie Winchester hung up her phone and groaned loudly. Her stubborn father just loves making things difficult for her and her older brother, Dean. The son-of-a-bitch has been missing for almost two weeks. He wouldn't pick up the phone, none of his friends have seen any sign of him, and the old man hasn't given any indication of where he was going. At this rate, she and Dean will be lucky to find him by the time she turns 75, well if she lives that long. Living the life of a hunter—which is basically a death sentence—included hunting down monsters, spirits, ghosts, and any other supernatural creature that terrorized the lives of innocent civilians. The first step is finding a case in some town in some state, making fake ID's, pray the police don't figure out that they're fake, research, find the monster, take it out with the right equipment, or if it's a spirit, salt and burn the corpse, then get the hell out of town before you're caught. So basically Leslie was living the lap of luxury! Not. The only two people that helped her stay somewhat sane through this whole crusade are her brothers: Dean, her older brother, and Sam, her younger twin by eight minutes.

But four years ago, Sam had left the family business to go to college at Stanford University because he didn't want to spend the rest of his life "killing things that are already dead" as he would put it. This was something Leslie was still upset about. The night Sam left, she felt like she lost her best friend. But then again, she may have already lost him long before that. She and Sam had been at odds since they were fourteen. Sam was always her father's favorite, while she could never seem to impress him. She knew deep down her anger at Sam was misdirected, but she couldn't help it. Leslie then thought not-so-fondly about all the idiotic stunts she pulled to get John's attention—not of which actually worked. They only seemed to get Sam in trouble with John, increasing the distance between the twins. This would lead to petty arguments that would erupt into screaming matches forcing Dean to play middleman and soon they would go almost a week without saying anything to one another. So no, Leslie did not have the world's best relationship with Sam. The only good thing that seemed to come from that is that her bond with Dean grew stronger. For a while it was just the two of them. He taught her many cool new moves and fighting techniques that her father never did. He also helped her improve in areas where she fell short. She was much more relaxed around Dean because despite how much they bicker, she knows it's never anything personal. He also helps her forget how much she wished Sam was still with them.

It was very confusing. She wants Sam to be with her still, and yet she doesn't want anything to do with him. She and Sam didn't part on good terms. As the two of them grew up, the distance between them grew too. It was as if Sam didn't want her around. He started separating himself from her when they started high school. Maybe it had something to do with her getting him in trouble so often because he always tried to bail her out of trouble. But she never _asked_ for his help. She could've handled the situation on her own. Well, at least that's what she told herself. She has found many times that her brothers had to come and save her more times than she'd like to admit. She always seemed to get herself into fights she didn't realize she couldn't handle until it was too late. The more her brothers came to save her, the more she felt like a stupid, pathetic damsel in distress like the ones in fairytales.

But she was desperate to prove she was stronger than that. She was determined to show her father what she was capable of…that is if they could even _find_ him. Dean took notice of his sister's annoyance and grew worried.

"Nothing?" he asked.

"Zip, zero, zilch," answered Leslie, annunciating every word.

"Damn it Dad," Dean grumbled under his breath.

"I don't know why you're surprised. This isn't the first time he's left us high and dry," said Leslie, bitterly.

"It's never been this long though. Well, it has been, but he's called us before when it _is_ this long," answered Dean, deeply worried.

"Correction, he's called _you,_ " responded Leslie, bitterness showing more and more.

"Okay, what's with the tone?" asked Dean, growing annoyed.

"Why is it that we're always worrying about _him_ when he's the one who should be worrying about _us_?" wondered Leslie.

"He _does_ worry about us," Dean countered.

"Then why would he leave us in this mess?!" exclaimed Leslie.

"He trusts that we can handle ourselves," said Dean, trying to find excuses.

"Or maybe he just doesn't care," mumbled Leslie to herself.

Apparently Dean heard this since he was quick to respond. "Hey! Stop with the piss poor attitude! Dad knows what he's doing and he does care what happens to us! I swear you sound like Sam sometimes."

This seemed to have struck a nerve because Dean's eyes widened and Leslie scowled. Both abruptly turned their heads away. The two of them hadn't spoken Sam's name aloud since the night he left, especially Dean. Leslie knew Dean hoped so hard that Sam would eventually come around and stay with the family instead of running off to college. Obviously that didn't happen.

 _Well that's what hope does to you,_ thought Leslie.

All it did was build you up and when you think you're on the top of the world, all it takes is one word, sentence, and/or action to shatter that tower and send you back to the bottom of the heap. That has happened to Leslie one too many times and she did _not_ want it to happen again. So she learned to never get her hopes up for anything. It always ended in failure and it seemed it always would. She found out early. Her brothers on the other hand have not and she has been dreading the day whatever hope her brothers have left comes crumbling down.

It was one of those times when Leslie wondered what life would be like if Dad had just handled Mom's death like any other normal person would. Why didn't they try to start over? Why didn't he go to therapy to get help with how to deal with Mom's death? If he had, would their life be this terrible? Would she be able to go to college like Sam? Would she have to worry about getting too attached to people? Would she and Dad be closer? She didn't know if her anger was justified or not, but for all she knew, her father's actions had put them in a shit life they could never crawl out of.

The 1967 Chevy Impala was awkwardly silent for the next few minutes until Dean broke the silence.

"Leslie, I'm sorry. I just…"

"I know. It's just the first time we've said his name out loud," said Leslie, awkwardly.

"You miss him?" asked Dean.

"No!" cried Leslie, indignantly. Dean gave her this _oh really_ look, showing he could see right through the indignant glare. Leslie's face softened in defeat. "Maybe." Dean still wasn't buying it. "A lot." Dean still had the look and Leslie lost it. "Okay fine! I _really_ miss him! Are you happy?!"

Not really, but Dean settled for this answer. "Look I know things have gotten really bad between you and Sam but—"

"Dean, I'm managing. Honestly it doesn't matter anymore. He can do whatever the hell he wants with his life even if he doesn't want me in it," she insisted, crossing her arms.

"I'm sure it's not that but—"

"It is! There's no point in denying it. Ever since we were teenagers, he has put more and more distance between us! He wants nothing to do with the sister who messes everything up for him!" Leslie ranted. She didn't realize how much she had been bottling up until now. She could tell Dean had been taken by surprise too, due to the dear-in-headlights look he was giving her.

"You don't actually believe he thinks that, do you?" asked Dean.

"I do. He wasn't exactly subtle about it. And trust me, I _know_ subtlety when I see it," stated Leslie.

Leslie could feel Dean's sad stare boring into her. Ever since things went to shit with the twins, Dean has been the mediator, the middle man, refusing to take a side, and always buffering them. She knew he held out hope that she and Sam would make up. It was just another example on why hope was a dangerous thing. It always sets you up for heartbreak. Nevertheless, she did wish she could make up with Sam. She wanted her best friend back, even though she wasn't sure how much those feelings were reciprocated. She also hated putting Dean in the middle. He already does that enough with Sam and Dad, and sometimes her and Dad. He's always playing the peacemaker and she could tell he wished it could stop. Maybe if she ever saw Sam again, she would try to get along with him for Dean's sake. And if the occasion ever arose, maybe she would apologize for some of the things she did in the past. Oh why was she kidding herself? She wasn't apologizing!

Dean was silent for a minute and spoke up again. "Y'know, I remember when you and Sam were thirteen. You two did almost everything together. Always joking, playing, teasing each other, having each other's backs…what happened to that?" wondered Dean, ruefully.

"Times change, and people change," Leslie recited, as though she had been saying it her whole life.

"You're telling me," grumbled Dean. "One day, you and Sam will get that twinship back on track. And it may be sooner than you think."

Leslie dismissed this at first, but then caught on to the emphasis on Dean's _sooner than you think._

"What do you mean, 'sooner than you think'?" she asked.

"You'll see," said Dean, with a sly smile telling her he was hiding something. She knew the look because that's what she looks like when she is causing mischief right under her brothers' noses. And then it clicked. She opened the glove compartment and rummaged around for the map. Dean had drawn the route they were taking and when she saw the end destination, she couldn't realize how she didn't notice. The destination was to Stanford University.

"No…don't tell me that we're…we're not…certainly not…"

"Yes we are," said Dean, looking pleased with himself. Leslie on the other hand was not.

"No! We are _not_ taking Sam with us!" she objected.

"Sorry, but this isn't your choice," said Dean, dismissively.

"Why didn't you tell me?" demanded Leslie.

"Because I knew you were going to react like this," stated Dean, as though it were obvious.

"Well of course I would because—uh—are you stupid?! Sam wants nothing to do with this family!" she exclaimed.

"You're overreacting," said Dean, nonchalantly.

"No I'm not. He actually said, 'We are the most screwed up excuse for a family and I want no part of it,' right before he left," said Leslie in a matter-of-fact tone.

"He couldn't have meant that," said Dean, who sounded like he was grasping at hope like it was his lifeline.

"He said it. He must've meant it somehow," Leslie spat, resentfully.

"Well he'll come around once we explain what's happened to Dad," said Dean, extremely hopeful.

"Actually, he's more likely to kick us out of his dorm once we mention Dad. He pretty much hates the man. He argued with Dad about anything and everything from the time we were fourteen to the time he left," stated Leslie, trying to make Dean look at this realistically. No such luck.

"It's been four years since we've seen him. A lot can change in that time," said Dean.

"Or nothing," mumbled Leslie. Dean didn't react harshly this time. Instead he gave her a tender pat on the shoulder, a signal to look at him.

"Hey, it'll all work out in the end okay," said Dean, eyes sparkling with hope that not even Leslie stood a chance against. Even when they did have serious arguments like this, Leslie could never hold her own when either of her brothers used 'the eyes' on her. "Do you know why? Because we are stronger when there are three of us."

"We've managed without Sam for four years. Why can't we manage for another one?" asked Leslie, but without the same harshness she had earlier.

"Because I don't want to. I just want us to be a family again like we used to be," said Dean, sounding desperate and emotional, something he never shows to anyone except her, and Sam on an occasion.

Leslie thought about when the three of them were still children. It was the three of them against the great big stupid world. They were bonded and the best of friends. It was so much easier before Sam began to break from the family. She still couldn't help but feel like Sam's desire for a normal life was what tore their family apart. Granted, they were already screwed up to begin with, but they were at least managing up until that point. It's not like she _wanted_ to be a hunter forever, but she could see there was no other option for her. Why was it so hard for Sam to see that? Well she knew one thing for sure. Sam had inherited the typical Winchester stubbornness that caused more problems than it solved them. But it would be nice for the three of them to be united against everything once again. There was no guarantee that Sam will come with them, but she guessed she should give it a shot. Well actually she _has_ to give it a shot. Dean's driving to Stanford and there was no talking him out of it.

"Okay," said Leslie.

Dean's face lit up and he gave a big whoop and laughed at himself. Leslie couldn't suppress the smile tugging at her lips. Dean could be the biggest asshole ever. But he would always be her awesome, wisecracking, caring big brother. No matter what arguments erupted between them, serious or not, she could never find it in her heart to stay mad at this humungous goofball.

"That's the spirit Les! Now it's time for a little music," said Dean, in an excited, childish sort of way.

"What are you going to play this time? Metallica, Guns 'N' Roses, or Led Zeppelin?" asked Leslie smiling, knowing Dean's passion for classic rock.

"None. I'm playing your _favorite,_ " said Dean with a cheeky smile. Leslie's smile slipped off her face when he said that. Dean only said 'your favorite' when he would play her absolute least favorite song.

"No…"

"Oh yeah…"

"I swear to God if you even think—"

Dean, of course, did not listen to her and insisted on playing, in her opinion, the worst classic rock song ever written.

"Dean, come on!" exclaimed Leslie.

"Lighten up a little," said Dean, teasingly over the loud music. "AC/DC is awesome!"

"Yes _they_ are, but this _song_ isn't," argued Leslie.

"Only you think so," said Dean, smirking like an idiot.

Leslie was praying to whatever was out there that Dean didn't start singing along to this song. Her prayers were not answered.

" _I'm on the highway to Hell!"_ sang Dean, incredibly off key. Leslie had to cover her ears with her hands to block out the song and Dean God-awful singing. She was pissed because he _knew_ this was her least favorite song and knew _why_ as well. They break about 50 moral codes a _day_ just _doing_ what they do and will probably get sent to Hell for it. She didn't want to listen to a song called _Highway to Hell_ when it seemed like they were literally on a 'highway to hell.' After three to four minutes the song was finally over and Dean was laughing at Leslie's _you are so freaking dead_ glare.

"I am _so_ going to get you first this," threatened Leslie.

"I'd like to see you try," teased Dean, but it was Leslie's time to smirk. He didn't know that while he was butcher-singing _Highway to Hell_ , she was carefully planning her revenge which would come when he least expected it. And it was going to be good.

* * *

It took about another twenty-four hours to drive to Stanford. By the time they got there, it was 2:00 A.M. on October 31. They entered the Stanford University – Office of Undergraduate Admission and found someone asleep at the desk. Leslie walked up to the old woman and tapped her on the shoulder.

"Excuse me, ma'am?" she asked.

The old woman jerked awake and was mumbling about cereal and cats.

"Wha-wha-what time is it?" she asked, groggily.

"It's two o'clock in the morning. My name is Leslie Winchester, and that's my brother Dean. We have a brother who goes here. His name is Sam Winchester," Leslie explained.

"I…I need to look through my file," she said tiredly. She looked through a file for Sam and after about fifteen minutes, she was able to find him. "Awe yes. Sam Winchester. He is staying in an apartment about fifteen minutes away from here."

"Can we have his address?" asked Dean.

"Yeah sure and…wait. How do I know you two aren't criminals?" she asked suspiciously. Okay so maybe she was as foolish as they thought she was.

"Have you heard our names ever come up in a news report before?" asked Leslie.

"Your names are Dean and Leslie Winchester…nope. I've never heard about either of you," she said.

"Then you should be assured that we're fine. It seems nowadays if your name doesn't come up, your no doing anything illegal," said Leslie, hoping this woman bought that statement.

"You…you're right. Here's his address," she said showing them Sam's address in the file. Dean wrote it down on a sheet of paper.

"Thanks ma'am," said Dean.

"You're welcome," she mumbled before falling back to sleep, snoring.

Dean and Leslie left the building and chuckled about the woman falling asleep. Dean did some imitation of her snoring, causing his sister to laugh like a child. For a moment they forget the seriousness of their situation. They completely forgot about why they came to Stanford in the first place. Once the laughing ceased, that seriousness was restored.

"Okay, she said he was in an apartment building called Tristan Towers on Serra Street. He is in apartment 4B," explained Leslie.

"Okay well, it shouldn't be too far," said Dean.

Thankfully it wasn't. The drive took ten minutes due to the lack of traffic at after 2 o'clock. By the time they got there, Leslie was trying to formulate a plan in her head on how to go about this. She began to think that maybe this wasn't a good idea. Well actually she had been thinking that this entire time but it only intensified now that they arrived where they needed to be.

"Um…maybe we should wait until morning," suggested Leslie.

"No way. I didn't drive 30 hours here to wait another six hours. We're going in now," said Dean.

"Seriously? What if someone catches us? What if someone calls the cops on us? What if we have the wrong apartment? What if, if we do have the right apartment, Sam kicks us out for waking him up in the wee hours of the morning?" explained Leslie, reciting off all the possible ways this could go wrong. She had learned in her lifetime, if you think there is a slight chance something could go wrong, it probably will. Dean rolled his eyes at his worrisome sister and nonchalantly contradicted all of her statements

"Firstly, no one is going to catch us or call the cops on us because no one is awake. Secondly, we don't have the wrong apartment because Stanford is more professional than to write down the wrong address. Thirdly, Sam won't kick us out. We'll be fine," he said, sounding so sure of himself.

"Okay fine. But do you have a good plan?" asked Leslie, reluctantly.

"I have… _a_ plan," said Dean, cheekily.

"Dean…"

"All we're going to do it sneak in through the window, wake Sam up, and convince him to come with us. And then it's the three of us on the road again! Good plan huh?" said Dean, too confident in this easily botched plan.

"That is a _stupid_ plan!" contradicted Leslie. Dean's smile fell in annoyance.

"Well do you have anything better?" he asked, impatiently.

"Maybe we should at _least_ let him know we're coming. One of us should call him."

"Nuh-uh. Sam hasn't tried to contact us for years. He won't answer his phone."

"Then why don't we ring the doorbell?"

"Oh yeah, 'cause that doesn't scream _serial killer_ loud and proud."

"Well why do you think breaking in _through the window_ is a better plan?!"

"Because I'm the oldest and I know best."

"I've lived with you for twenty-two years and let me tell you, you _don't_ know best."

"If you want to wait until morning, that's fine. But I'm playing _Highway to Hell_ nonstop for the next few hours or so if you do."

"You son-of-a-bitch…"

"Well then it's either my way or the hard way."

Leslie glared daggers at her brother. Did he seriously think this was the best plan? This could get them in the police station faster than she could say 'monster.' This is why she should _never_ let Dean do the planning. But she knew one way or another they were going to go through with Dean's plan. Why delay the inevitable?

"Fine, but if we get caught I'm ditching you," growled Leslie.

Dean brushed off this threat, knowing it was empty. Dean and Leslie climbed the fire escape up to the fourth floor. Now came the hard part: finding which one was Sam's.

"How are we going to know which apartment is Sam's?" asked Leslie.

"Just shine your flashlight through every window and whatever looks like Sam's apartment is the one we choose," said Dean.

"I am _never_ letting you make the plans again," grumbled Leslie.

She did shine her flashlight in the windows though, because she had no other plan at the moment. The first window had a bunch of music posters and art work hung around the place. Knowing Sam wasn't into either, she dismissed that apartment. The other ones just looked fairly normal and boring so she couldn't lay her finger on which apartment was Sam's. But she finally came across a window where on the other side was an old Latin book.

"This one has to be Sam's," whispered Leslie.

"Well then. Ready or not, here we come," said Dean, excitedly.

While Dean was excited, Leslie just groaned and mumbled to herself on why she let Dean talk her into doing something so reckless. Once they were inside the apartment, they began to look around. It was dark and her flashlight did not help light up the room that much. Dean and Leslie split up. She checked the kitchen while Dean checked the living room. Leslie almost considered having the wrong apartment, but then she heard a loud thud that sounded like someone was attacking Dean. She sprinted into the living room with her flashlight still in hand to see what was happening. When she arrived in the room, Dean was on top of his attacker who Leslie, thanks to her flashlight, knew was definitely her twin brother Sam.

"Whoa, easy tiger," said Dean, amused.

"Dean?" asked Sam, exasperatedly. Leslie rolled her eyes and knelt down next to her idiot brothers.

"I told you we should've knocked," she said in an I-told-you-so tone.

"No you said we should've waited," Dean contradicted.

" _Anything_ would've been better than this," stated Leslie, as if it were obvious.

"Leslie? You're here too?" asked Sam, as though he couldn't believe it.

"Miss me, little brother?" she asked, sassily. Sam couldn't answer and only continued to stare at her like she was some alien from Mars. "I guess not."

"No it's not that! I just…you two scared the _crap_ out of me!" Sam exclaimed.

"That's because you're out of practice," said Dean, teasingly. Sam responded by kneeing Dean in the groin and reversing the positions they were in. "Or not."

"Alright, get up you morons. We have to talk," said Leslie, pulling Sam off of Dean, and helping Dean up off the apartment floor.

"What the hell are you two doing here?" asked Sam, thoroughly annoyed.

"Well I was looking for a beer," said Dean, sarcastically.

"Dude," said Leslie, deadpanned.

" _What_ are you two _doing_ here?" reiterated Sam, sounding even more agitated.

"We need to talk. It's important," said Dean.

"Uh, the phone?" retorted Sam gesturing to the phone.

"That's what I said!" exclaimed Leslie exasperatedly.

"Les, not now," hissed Dean before redirecting his attention towards Sam. "I would've called but would you have answered?"

Before Sam could answer, he was cut off when someone flipped the lights on.

"Sam?" asked a groggily female voice. In the doorway was a pretty, young woman about Leslie's age with blonde hair, wearing underwear and a Smurf's T-shirt. She looked just as confused as Sam was.

"Hey Jess. Dean, Leslie, this is my girlfriend Jessica," said Sam. Jess smiled at her and Dean and Leslie gave an awkward wave. How was she supposed to introduce herself? She assumed this girl didn't know what it was they did for a living and she did not feel like scary the shit out her.

"Wait, you brother and sister, Dean and Leslie?" asked Jess, shocking Leslie.

"You know about us?" asked Leslie.

"Yeah. Sam talks about you two a lot," said Jess, "especially you," gesturing toward Leslie. Leslie was stunned. Sam talked about her? He cared enough to talk about her to some girl he had only known for no longer than two years? But then again, this could mean two things. He either talked about their good times as children, or ranted about how much Leslie screwed things up for him as they were teenagers. She didn't know which it was, but she decided she didn't want to know.

"I love the Smurfs," said Dean, flirtatiously. Oh God no.

"Dean don't…" pleaded Leslie, half-heartedly, but of course she was ignored.

"Can I just say that _you_ are totally out of my brother's league," said Dean with a kinky smile. Leslie was silently cursing Dean in her head. It's one thing to flirt with every pretty girl he sees, but to flirt with Sam's girlfriend? That was just shameless.

"I should probably go put something on," said Jess awkwardly.

"Oh no, I wouldn't dream of it," said Dean flirtatiously. Leslie got fed up, marched over to Dean, and hit him upside the head. "Ow! What was that for?!"

"She's _Sam's girlfriend_!" exclaimed Leslie. She then turned to Jess with an apologetic smile. "Look I am _so_ sorry about Dean. He can't help that he's the King of the Dicks and—"

At this comment, Dean slapped his sister upside the head as well.

"Ow! What the _fuck_ Dean?!" exclaimed Leslie, glaring at her older brother.

"Next time don't slap me," he growled.

"Well maybe _you_ shouldn't flirt with every pretty girl you see," argued Leslie.

"Or maybe you—"

"Hey guys! There are still other people in the room," interrupted Sam who was still unhappy about his siblings breaking into his apartment.

"Right sorry. Anyway, we gotta borrow your boyfriend here and talk about some private family business. But, uh, nice meeting you," said Dean trying to lead Sam away. But Sam wasn't having any of it.

"No, whatever you have to say, you can say in front of her," said Sam, walking over to Jess and holding her protectively. That probably wasn't the best idea, but they didn't have time to argue.

"Fine. Dad's missing," said Leslie, urgently.

"He not _missing,_ " scoffed Sam. "He's probably working overtime on a Miller Time shift. He'll stumble back in sooner or later."

Leslie gave an annoyed look at Sam before turning to Dean as to say _help me._

"Dad's on a _hunting_ trip. And he hasn't been home in a few days," said Dean, just as urgently as Leslie. This caught Sam's attention as his hazel eyes grew wide.

"Jess, excuse us. We have to go outside," said Sam.

Sam went into his bedroom to change out of his pajamas. Dean followed him and Leslie could already hear them arguing like children. She rolled her eyes and caught Jess giving her a confused, but amused look.

"Uh, I'm so sorry about all…this," apologized Leslie, quite pathetically.

"It's fine. Sam did say his family was one of a kind," said Jess, amused.

Leslie gave a couple of forced laugh before turning her head away and mumbling, "You have no idea."

Leslie left the living room and Sam was fully dressed and still arguing with Dean. Leslie rolled her eyes for like the millionth time today and followed behind them into the stairwell. She swore if having an awkward family reunion was an Olympic event, the Winchesters would definitely take the gold.

 **Yay! My first chapter is finally done! Make sure to tell me what you thought. Constructive criticism is always welcome.**


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